Thicker than Blood
by LittleKnux2008
Summary: What happens when ‘Taker’s daughter arrives on the scene of SD right before the Great American Bash? Can she stop him before he makes the biggest mistake of his life?
1. Prologue

**Title: **Thicker Than Blood

**Author: **LittleKnux2008

**Rating: **PG: 13

**Author's Note: **Okay, one moment, I just have to get this out of my system.  JEFF HARDY IS WRESTLING AGAIN!  AND I CAN'T WATCH HIM!  For those people who didn't know, Jeff Hardy recently made his debut in TNA.  sigh Anyway, please, please review! 

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except 'Taker's daughter.

**Summary: **What happens when 'Taker's daughter arrives on the scene of SD right before the Great American Bash?  Can she stop him before he makes the biggest mistake of his life?

**Note: **Okay, I got this idea when I was watching SD tonight.  SPOILERS FOR 6/24 SD, by the way!  Anyway, it's the first SD I've seen in a while…  So I really don't have a clue about the Undertaker situation…  If someone could clue me in on who the hell Paul Bearer is, that might help!  =) Anyway, if any of you know a lot (or even a little!) about this situation, please explain!  begs

**Thicker Than Blood**

          The tell-tale gongs rang through the intimidated audience as they riveted their eyes on the sight of the Undertaker, bowing down to Paul Heyman.  John Cena was still lying where he had been pinned, looking almost delirious with the pain racking through his back and his neck.  He had stood up against the Undertaker, but after the hit to the face from his own steel chain-a bit of irony he still had to digest-and a Tombstone John had lost.  Cena had been giving a beating, and everyone thought it was enough…except for Paul Heyman.  He showed no remorse as he drew the microphone from his back pocket, and spoke two words.  Paul's finger pointed toward the ring, at Cena's motionless body as he spoke his order.  "Destroy him."

          The arena was unusually quiet.  Hadn't John gone through enough?  The Undertaker stood slowly, his head turning to see the fallen U.S. Champion.  He moved as if in a trance walking to the Champion and then dragging him to his feet.  On the steel ramp, Paul Heyman smiled as the Undertaker picked the Doctor of Thuganomics up and prepared him for another hellacious Tombstone. 

          "NO!" only Paul Heyman heard the feminine cry.  He turned around to face where the burst of noise had come, his eyes focusing behind him.  Heyman didn't have enough time to move out of the way, and the woman's shoulder slammed against his, sending him stumbling down the ramp.  He gaped at her as she ran to the ring.  Security appeared a moment later, chasing the woman.  _'Who the hell is that girl?' _Paul wondered, his anger increasing.  _'And who does she think she is, interrupting me?' _

          The woman was no one of recognition.  Her hair was a deep red color, falling to her shoulders and in a half-ponytail.  She was wearing a simple white shirt tied at her navel and a pair of Adidas shorts.  Completely ignoring the security, she slid into the ring. 

          "STOP!" the Undertaker's eyes snapped toward the sound of her voice in the middle of the preparation for the Tombstone.

          Sensing that the redhead might somehow ruin his plans, Paul Heyman grabbed his microphone once more.  "DO IT!  NOW!" he screamed loudly.  The woman, however, moved quicker than Paul did.  She leapt forward, encircling John's waist with her arms, and pulling him away.  The Undertaker, still distracted, didn't provide any resistance.  His eyes grew wide as he looked down at the woman.

          "DESTROY HIM, UNDERTAKER!" Paul continued to scream from the ramp, implying that no obstacles should get in his way.  Hearing his voice, the Undertaker reached out, grabbing the kneeling redhead's shoulder with one arm, and shoving her ruthlessly to the side of the ring.  His gloved hands grabbed John's head and he bent down to pull the younger man up.  Before he could, there was a presence at his arm.  A ferocious tug spun 'Taker around.

          It was the woman.  She stared up at him, her green eyes wide, but showing no fear.  "Stop it!" she cried, her voice bordering on pleading.

          "Destroy him!" Paul bellowed from the ramp once more.  'Taker turned to go back to John, when the woman's voice stopped him again.

          "Dad!  Stop, **please!**" the arena seemed to freeze in place.  _The Undertaker's daughter?_Shock settled over the members of the audience.

          On the ramp, Paul Heyman suddenly grinned.  _'So…He has a daughter…how sweet…' _he thought, the grin on his face everything but angelic.  _'Here is my ultimate chance to prove my power over the Undertaker!' _he thought wickedly, and raised the microphone to his lips.

          "UNDERTAKER!  I don't want either of them leaving this arena in anything but an ambulance!" he howled, his meaning clear.  He didn't know why the woman suddenly decided to show up, or what her purpose here was, but he knew one thing for sure…

          If she was here to ruin his plans for the PPV, he'd make personally sure that she wouldn't be able to **make **it to the arena. 

          Because no one, _no one, _would ruin his plans for the Great American Bash.

          Least of all the Undertaker's daughter.

          --                ---               ----              -----            ------           -------

**Author's Note:  **Okay, I personally think that this chapter sounded better in my head, but the starts to my stories always suck anyway…  I hope you liked!  Please, please review!


	2. Chapter 1

**Title: **Thicker Than Blood

**Author: **LittleKnux2008

**Rating: **PG: 13

**Author's Note: **YES! YES! YES! =) Had to get that out of my system.  Just happy that Jeff is not officially in TNA.  –hoping he will come to the WWE-  Anyway, thanks to the reviewers for explaining the whole Undertaker situation!  I just have one question…  On the 6/24 SD, Heyman mentioned something about the Undertaker's conscience.  So…Paul Bearer is his conscience?   [Oo  We're all doomed (=D jk)]  And, okay, maybe there are two questions.  What's up with the urn?  Anyway, please review!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything except 'Taker's daughter.

**Summary: **What happens when 'Taker's daughter arrives on the scene of SD right before the Great American Bash?  Can she stop him before he makes the biggest mistake of his life?

****

****

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 1**

            She knew it had been a stupid idea to come out here, but she had to do something!  Kathryn Calloway looked into her father's eyes, trying to find some emotion.  He turned his head away from her.  The redhead gritted her teeth in frustration.  She blocked out Paul Heyman's furious, indignant cries.  _'Don't listen to him,' _she pleaded silently to the Undertaker.

            All this mess between her father, the Dudleys, Paul Bearer and Paul Heyman…  She needed to talk some common sense into her dad.  Paul Heyman was a monster, and wouldn't think twice about killing Paul Bearer in that glass crypt, regardless of whether or not he did the right thing.  Kathryn had a pretty good idea what the 'right thing' was, and she didn't like it at all.  But all of that aside…  She had something important to tell him; more important then anything concerning the upcoming Pay-Per-View, something dire.  Time was of the essence, and she couldn't afford to waste it sorting out a petty feud. 

            Kathryn's green eyes slowly moved back to her father's face.  Suddenly, he moved, his steps making a path to John Cena's fallen body.  She jumped forward, placing herself between the two wrestlers.  From what she knew, by watching the show, John was a nice guy.  And nice guy or not, no one, **no one**, deserved to receive the beating that the Undertaker seemed prepared to hand out.

            Well, okay, maybe Paul Heyman did, but that was just one exception.

            Kathryn waited in her spot for a few breathless, motionless seconds for her father to move.  His eyes were locked on hers with an intensity that made her want to look away.

            "Do the right thing, 'Taker!" Paul Heyman ordered from the ramp. 

            "Out of my way, girl," the Undertaker's voice was gruff and low.  The redhead didn't move, instead closing her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.  Her father reached out, his hand encircling her throat.  His strong grip made her gasp, eyes opening with the pain.  Something had changed in her dad's stare, and it scared the hell out of her.

            Kathryn struggled for breath as he crushed her windpipe.  Her arms uselessly attempted to pry herself from his grasp.  It was a fruitless task.  Darkness burst into her eyes.  Her chest burned with pain.  She could feel herself slowly falling into unconsciousness; away from the throbbing.  Just as the pain became unbearable, it stopped.

            John Cena leapt forward from his spot on the canvas, hitting the Undertaker with a low blow.  The desired effect took place: he dropped his hold on Kathryn.  John struggled to his feet.  He had no clue who she was, but she had just saved him from another devastating Tombstone.  His eyes returned to his mysterious savior.  Damn, was she pretty…

            The Undertaker nearly decapitated him with a clothesline as soon as he turned around.  Even a low blow didn't stop the Undertaker for long.  'Taker reached down and clamped his hand over John's face, covering his mouth and nose effortlessly.  Cena tried to climb to his feet, but the match had taken its toll on him and his energy was far past spent. 

            "DAD!" Kathryn cried, but the Undertaker did not listen.  The redhead winced at the raw pain in her throat that continued to burn, especially when she tried to speak, but attempted to distract her father all the same.  "Don't do this!  Don't listen to Heyman!  He's going to bury Bearer at the PPV no matter what you do to John and me now!  STOP!" she pleaded, holding her neck.

            Finally, after a good minute of screaming, she got his attention.  He dropped his hold on John and stalked his way over to her.  Kathryn backed away, still on all fours, as he neared.  The Undertaker's hands reached out for her, aiming to pull her up.  As he did so, Kathryn knew something with terrifying certainty...

            …she was going for a ride.


	3. Chapter 2

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 2**

        From atop the Undertaker's shoulders, Kathryn could see the shock on the faces of the audience.  It seemed that her terror was reflected in their eyes.  She struggled against the hold on her, but she was still weak from the choke, and 'Taker was holding on tight.  He stomach dropped near the vicinity of her feet as he brought her crashing to the ground.  The airtime before the impact took her breath away.

        Her back crashed against the mat with intimidating force.  Pure agony gripped her as she hit the mat.  Her back ached, and her head was light.  Kathryn closed her eyes against the onslaught of pain, as if it gave her some invisible defense.

        Kathryn felt her chest constrict with every breath she tried to take.  Panic, set in by the pain, held her tight.  The Undertaker was out of her line of vision.  Somehow, that was even worse than knowing he was right above her.  She attempted to crane her neck in order to get a better view, but she still couldn't see him.  That was when the thought struck her.  _'John…' _Almost as soon as the thought touched her, the ring shook beneath her, and she knew, without a doubt, that the Undertaker was in the process of destroying the U.S. Champion.  The hredhead willed her body to move, but it did not respond.

        John Cena inwardly groaned at his misfortune.  Here he was, fighting the Undertaker, all alone.  He4 cast a look toward the redhead.  Maybe not all alone…  He didn't know her intentions, but as of now they seemed to be on the same page.  Cena stumbled backward as 'Taker delivered a stunning right hook. He nearly fell to the mat below, but somehow managed to keep his balance.  The second hook sent him leaning against the ropes.  'Taker threw in a few more shots before he sent John flying toward the opposite ropes.  When he started to come back, the Undertaker met him in the middle with a powerful boot to the face.

        Kathryn didn't know where the boost of energy came.  Out of desperation, perhaps?  All she knew was that the moment her father raised his boot to slam into Cena's face, she moved, wrapping her arm around 'Taker's standing foot and taking him down.  The move didn't stop John from getting any damage, the Undertaker fell on top of her, and moving itself produced another jolt of pain….but at least the Undertaker was down for the count.  Lying there, pain racking her body, Kathryn quietly rayed that the Undertaker would not complete his orders fully.

        Her prayer, however, was in vain.

        The Undertaker shot up almost immediately after the take-down by his daughter.  His eyes traveled over the two as he stood.  He grabbed Kathryn by the hair, jerking her to her feet.  She was unable to stand by herself, leaning against him for support.  There was a sick, evil smile still in place on the man's face.  Fear once again took up its dwelling inside of Kathryn as the Undertaker lifted her into the air, high above his head, one hand on her thigh and one on her sore neck.  He walked around the ring once, a display of total power.  Finally, he made his way to one turnbuckle. Looking downward, Kathryn realized what he was going to do.  The survival instinct bred into her increased her struggling, but it heeded nothing. 

        With a giant heave, the Undertaker threw Kathryn.  Her body was suspended in air for a moment, as if held there by strings, and then she came crashing down…onto the steel steps.  The impact was loud and the gasps of the audience were audible.  Her body flopped off of the stairs, like a rag doll carelessly thrown away.  Darkness and pain blanketed her as she was pulled into unconsciousness, a temporary relief.

        With a feral grin, the Undertaker turned to see John Cena, using the ropes for leverage, crawling to his feet.

        Watchin from afar on the steel ramp, Paul Heyman grinned proudly.


	4. Chapter 3

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 3**

            He had heard the crashing of flesh against steel from his spot in the far corner of the ring.  It was impossible to miss.  John Cena jumped at the sudden noise, knowing instantly that it had been the redheaded girl, and feeling a pang of guilt that he hadn't been able to stop whatever horror that the Undertaker had just inflicted on her.  He had a pretty good idea what had happened, and one question rang through his mind:

            If the Undertaker was willing to do that to his own daughter…then what would he do to a fellow wrestler that he had no ties to, a wrestler that he, in fact, hated?  John gulped, grabbing for the ropes and pulling himself upward.  When he turned he was met with the Undertaker's predatory stare. 

            The line between match and aftermath began to blur for him as the Undertaker rushed forward, downing him with a series of suplexes and carefully placed mat moves.  After a leg drop on the apron of the ring, which nearly broke his neck, John didn't look like h would be getting up anytime soon.  The Undertaker turned his attentions elsewhere, his eyes focusing by the steel ramp, just next to Kathryn.

            Left forgotten, Cena's steel chain still remained where the Undertaker had thrown it earlier.  Without a glance backward, the Undertaker slid out of the ring, taking his time to get there.  He looked at Kathryn as he pent down to pick up the chain.  A crude combination of red hair and blood obscured her face.  There were cuts on her arms and legs, presumably from hitting the steel steps.  'Taker glanced down at his own gash on his arm that he had received from the steps earlier that night.  Sure enough, blood was continuing to flow steadily out of the wound.  With a barely audible growl, the Undertaker wrapped the steel chain around his hand and made his way back into the ring.

            Seven punches.  He was able to count the shots as they flew at him, his own steel chain ripping the very flesh off of him.  John wheezed as he bent over from the seventh shot- a particularly vicious one to the abdomen.  He vaguely caught sight of referees surrounding the outside of the ring, each too scared and daunted by the Undertaker to get into the fray and help.

            "'Taker!  STOP!"

            "Let him go!"

            "Leave the ring!"

            The cries echoed in John's ears, mingling with the low chuckle of the Undertaker.  A hand enclosed around his throat as he was back up into the turnbuckle.  He tried to breathe, his lungs straining for oxygen.  Finally, the choke stopped.  'Taker took his time as he placed John onto the turnbuckle.  Unsteady and off-balance, John nearly fell over.  The Undertaker righted him as he wrapped his arm around Cena's head.

            After the devastating superplex off of the turnbuckle, the crowd was back to chanting in full force, screaming their displeasure.  Cameras zoomed in on the EMTs as they attended to Kathryn, putting her neck in a brace.

            "My God…We've seen a new side to the Undertaker tonight," Michael Cole spoke breathlessly from his psot at the announce table.  Suddenly, a burst of music blared through the arena. 

            "One of a kind!"  There was a large uproar of cheers as Rob Van Dam and Rey Mysterio ran out and down the steel ramp.  RVD immediately hit the ring, attacking the Undertaker.

            "Finally, someone is coming to save Cena from this monster!" Cole said with relief.

            "Too bad it's too late for that girl…" Tazz added as the EMTs carried her away. 

            As RVD continued his assault, just barely staying on top, REy made his way around the ring, pulling Cena out of it.  He and a referee looped one of Cena's arms about their shoulders and they headed up to the ramp.  Hearing Rey's call, RVD downed 'Taker with a roundhouse kick and bolted out of the ring.

            As they left, the Undertaker watched them, smiling all the same.

            The damage had been dealt.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Thank you all who reviewed for this story!  And thank you for explaining the situation!  I love you guys, and please keep reviewing!  Oh, I think I've forgotten this the last couple chapters: I don't own anything but the story itself and Kathryn.  The wrestlers are © of the WWE.

                   -----------------------------------------------------------------------

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 4**

          "Here is a pack of bandages…  Make sure you keep your ribs taped up and you don't stress them.  You shouldn't need stitches for your forehead, but if it keeps bleeding, check in with the hospital.  Be careful with your training for the next couple days, all right?" the balding trainer said, his eyes locked with John Cena's.  John nodded absentmindedly, softly touching the band-aid over his forehead.  The trainer turned to Rob Van Dam and Rey Mysterio, who had waited with the fellow wrestler.  "Make sure he does, all right?" he asked.  At their nods, he stepped away.

          "Hey, wait a sec," John spoke up, and the slightly pot-bellied man turned to face him.  "How's the girl doing?  You know, the Undertaker's daughter?"

          The trainer, Anthony Barolo, looked suddenly remorseful.  He shook his head slowly.  "She's not too good.  She's going to need a lot of stitches, and there's a lot of worry about her neck.  Apparently, she flipped over in the air, landed on her side and jerked her neck when she collided," his voice was tired, as if he had seen things like this far too much in his life.

          John frowned suddenly.  "You haven't gotten her to the hospital yet?"

          Anthony shook his head.  "No, she refuses to be taken.  The ambulance is here, but she won't go.  The on-site doctor stitched up her wrist, thigh, and forehead, got the cuts that weren't so intensive bandaged, but there's not much he can do.  It looks like she's got a concussion…" he trailed off.  "If you think you can convince her to go to the hospital, you can go ahead and try." Anthony walked away. 

          Shrugging, John slid off of the bed and followed Anthony.  He nearly gaped at the scene.  There were at least six people crowded around the bed, and in the middle was Kathryn.  John stuck behind the people for a moment, just watching her.  The blood had been wiped off of her, but the job had been apparently hurried.  Streaks of crimson traveled across her body.  An acute mixture of pain and fear was present in her eyes.  One of her hands was gripping the neck brace around her.  "Hey, can I get through here?" John asked suddenly, and a few people moved out of his way.  John made his way to the foot of the bed.  "Guys, leave her alone for a second, alright?" he ordered the men, and they, after a moment of hesitation, stepped back.  Cena faced the redhead. 

          "I'm not going to the hospital," she told him.  Her tone was firm with no room for argument.  Her breath was slow and raspy. 

          "Why not?" John asked, keeping his tone light.

          Her jaw clenched.  "I don't need to."

          John paused for a minute.  It was clear to him what the real reason was, why she wouldn't go to the hospital.  He just wondered what had made her so afraid of hospitals in the first place.  "How are you feeling?" he inquired, moving the conversation away from the hospital.  She visibly relaxed.

          "I just got my ass handed to me on a silver platter," she retorted.  "How do you think I feel?" Kathryn retorted, and then looked down, as if ashamed of the snappish tone she used.  John's eyes fell on the purple bruises forming on her neck in the shape of fingertips.  Anger welled up in him.  _'What kind of father would do this to his own daughter?' _he wondered. 

          John turned to the trainers.  "I'll take her to the hotel," he stated suddenly, and they gaped.

          "What?  Are you mad?  This girl needs to get the proper treatment!" one said indignantly.

          "Does it look like you're going to get her to the hospital anytime soon?" John asked, throwing them temporarily speechless.  "Look, I can watch her at the hotel and make sure she doesn't do anything athletic or anything.  Isn't it best if she gets some rest?"

          "He's right," an elderly man commented, his voice gravelly.  "Her concussion is less than mild, and it would be good for her to get rest.  I believe it'd also do her well to get away from a…stressful location," he added.  The others took a long time to decide, but finally went with him.  Obviously, he had their respect and his opinion was important to them. 

          "Thank you," John said to him.

          The man nodded.  "Just make sure that she doesn't do anything active or strains herself." After John gave his assent, the trainers departed. 

          "Do you have any bags or anything?" John asked her, and she shook her head, slowly sliding off of the bed.  "Okay then.  My car's parked in the lot, Rey and Rob told me they'd meet me there." He walked at a slow pace, as much for his own good as hers.  It was quiet between them as they traveled the hallways, the arena unusually silent and empty.

          "You don't have to do this, you know," Kathryn said, her voice soft.  She glanced over at him. 

          He looked back at her.  "Hey, don't worry about it, it's not a problem." Kathryn sensed that that line of conversation was over.  The redhead bit her lip and continued to walk.  John spoke next.  "I'm curious about a couple things…  You don't have to answer or anything, but…"

          "Shoot," she told him, interrupting before he could start to ramble.

          "Well…  Who are you, first?" he asked.

          She smiled for a brief second.  "Kathryn Calloway, my friends sometimes call me Casey."

          "Casey?" he asked.

          "My initials," she supplied. 

          "Ah…  So, Kathryn…  Why are you here?"

          Kathryn was silent for a while, and he could tell she was thinking of what to say.  "This whole business between the Undertaker, Paul Bearer and Paul Heyman is a load of horse shit.  I mean, come on, Paul Bearer is Dad's conscience?  Yeah, right.  Anyway…  I came to talk some common sense into my dad."

          John stared down at her for a minute.  He had the distinct feeling that she wasn't telling him the whole truth.

          But there was plenty of time to find out.

                   -------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note: **Well, another chapter down!  Please review!  Oh, and by the way, I'll be heading on vacation from the 10th-17th and the 26th-2nd so there will be no updates then! 


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **bursts into tears Jeff signed a contract with TNA!  sniffle Sorry, had to let that out.  sigh Anyway, here's another update!  Please review!

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 5**

            John Cena sighed to himself as he sat down on the single bed in the hotel room, his arm protectively encasing his injured ribs.  His forehead had stopped bleeding for the most part, and with the aid of Tylenol, didn't hurt so much.  He slid under the covers, watching the television intently, but not focusing on the rerun of Law and Order.  Instead, his thoughts turned to the Great American Bash.  He had four full days until the day of the Pay-per-View.  From his spot on the bed, he eyed his title belt, placed proudly on top of his duffel bag.  As he listened to the continuous noise of the shower running, he thought about the upcoming fatal four-way for his U.S. Championship.

            His thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening.  Kathryn stepped out, looking uncertain.  "I have to say," John spoke up, mostly to try and break the ice, "You do look a lot better without the blood all over your face." She blushed timidly, and walked slowly toward the bed.  John watched her out of the corner of his eye.  She looked undeniably small in the large, baggy jersey and boxers that he had given her to wear, seeing as how she didn't have any other clothes.  Her red hair was plastered to her face, making her complexion seem even paler.  Without a word, she sat on the bed and laid down beneath the covers.

            "Hey, John?" she said as he reached over to turn off the light beside him.

            "Yeah?" he replied, turning the switch, leaving only the T.V. to light the room.

            "Thanks," she said, and she meant it.

            "Hey, I said I would take care of you, and I'm a man of my word," he replied, turning the television to a channel with continuous music videos, and set the remote down on the end table.  He put his head down on the pillow, facing her.  "Goodnight," he murmured.  As soon as his eyes were closed, he opened them again.  "Oh, I didn't remember…" he trailed off, reaching for the remote to turn the T.V off.

            "Don't bother," Kathryn told him, "its okay."  Shrugging, he returned back to his spot, watching the T.V best he could from that position.  Just as his eyelids were drooping, he felt something touch his forehead.  He snapped his eyes up, and locked them onto Kathryn.  Her arm was extended, her fingers brushing across the gash across his forehead, her touch soft and gentle.  He blinked, not moving his eyes from her.  Her mouth was slightly agape, the T.V casting a bluish glow onto her face.  Kathryn's voice was light as she whispered, "He did this to you, didn't he?"

            John immediately knew who she was talking about when she said 'he'.  "Yes," was his simple response.  Kathryn pursed her lips tightly.

            "I'm sorry," she said after a moment.

            "It's not your fault," he replied instantly.

            "I could've stopped him," the redhead insisted, biting down on her lip.

            "You did all you could, and you didn't even have to try," John told her, but she just shook her head, averting her eyes.  John grasped her hand, and moved it to his naked chest, placing it palm-first over his heart.  "You hear that, Kathryn?  I'm still alive; I'm fine.  There's nothing to be blaming yourself about."  He sighed deeply, seeing that his words were still not hitting her.  "Why do you keep blaming yourself?"

            "I don't know," she whispered softly, her hand curling into a fist.  John didn't let go of her hand, keeping his grip.  "It was supposed to be so simple…  In and out…  Talk to Dad after the show and tell him…" her throat closed, and she pressed her lips together suddenly.

            "Tell him what?" John coaxed gently.

            She pulled her hand back sharply, rolling over so that her back faced him.  "I don't want to talk about it," she responded, her voice hoarse, sounding as if she was holding back tears.  John ran a hand over his hair, and groaned inwardly.  _'Good job, Cena,' _he scolded himself, _'Keep going and she'll just keep clamming up.'_ He rolled over on his side, and closed his eyes.  In the dark silence, thoughts assaulted him.  _'Why am I doing this for her?' _he asked himself.  _'It's probably the right thing to do…  But I can't imagine myself going out of my way just to help some girl…  She saved my ass in the ring, but I saved hers, too.  That's not what compelled me to assign myself to take care of her…'  _Groaning, John put a pillow over his head as if it would silence his thoughts.

            A few minutes later, sleep claimed him.

            ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---

**Author's Note: **This will be the last, or second to last, update before I leave for San Francisco.  Sorry about the dumb ending!  Anyway, please review!


	7. Chapter 6

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 6**

"Kathryn Calloway, what the hell are you doing?" the question she asked herself came out as a whisper as the redhead looked at herself in the mirror.  _'I came here to tell Dad.  It wasn't necessary to interfere in that match,' _she attempted to brush through her hair with her fingers.  _'I could've just talked to him after the show; hell, that would have been easier.' _Her eyes moved to the reflection of John in the mirror, still sleeping in the bed.  _'I didn't want to see him hurt,' _she thought to herself, and sighed.  _'I tried to stop Dad from hurting him the best I could,' _she affirmed.  _'Why did I do it?  Why do I feel so…**guilty **that I didn't?' _

            Kathryn shook her head, and decided to worry about the reasons for her own actions later.  For now, she had to deal with a bigger problem.  Obviously, the Undertaker was not in the right state of mind.  _'I have to convince him that Paul Bearer isn't his conscience, and Paul isn't the only one who cares about him,' _she thought, sighing.  _'That's never going to happen, at least not before Sunday.  And when Heyman buries Bearer…  That will throw Dad off the deep end, and totally screw up that plan.  I have to find Bearer.  That's the only way,' _she decided, her lips forming a straight line.  _'Now how the hell do I do that?'_ Her eyes returned to the mirror, and she paused.  _'First things first, Kat,' _she thought to herself.  _'Can't exactly walk around in this all day.'_

            After talking to the manager for fifteen minutes straight, and doing everything in her power to have him tell her where Torrie Wilson's locker room was located—well, everything short of breaking the law—Kathryn was standing in front of the blonde bombshell's room.  She rapped on the door loud enough for her to hear, but not to wake the people in the neighboring rooms.  After a minute, the door opened, revealing an irritated-looking Sable dressed in bra and panties, obviously caught in the middle of changing, and obviously not caring.  Kathryn paused, and opened her mouth to speak, but the older woman beat her to it.

            "You're that Calloway chick, aren't you?" she said.  The way she said it didn't garner a response.  Her eyes swept over the redhead's clothes.  "One night on the show, and you've already slept with John Cena?" Sable questioned, and her upper lip curled.  "Be careful, or you'll be another Dawn—"

            "Is Torrie here?" Kathryn interrupted, her patience wearing thin, fast.

            Sable rolled her eyes and stepped back from the door.  Kathryn walked into the room and shut the door.  "Tor!  John's new girl is here!" she announced, and Torrie stepped out from the bathroom.

            "You're John's new girlfriend?" she questioned, her tone much more polite than Sable's.  "I didn't hear about this!"

            Kathryn blushed profusely.  "N-No…  It's not like that…" she paused.  _'What's it like, then?' _her thoughts countered.  _'If you explain it, she'll think you're nuts, and you'll sound like a huge liar,' _she thought to herself, and sighed.  "It's complicated," was all she said.

            Torrie laughed.  "I know what you mean.  Men are more trouble then they're worth," she extended a hand to Kathryn.  "Torrie Wilson, though you seem to know me…  And hey, aren't you the girl who tried to stop the Undertaker from hurting John?  That was mighty brave of you."

            "Yes, it was me, and thank you," she took Torrie's hand.  "Kathryn Calloway."  If Torrie had any shock over her last name, she didn't show it.

            "So what brings you here?" Torrie asked.

            "Well, you see, when I took a flight here, they lost my baggage.  It ended up in Grand Rapids, so I won't be getting it back for another week.  I don't have any clothes, and I can't go shopping with this on, obviously, and you're the only one I could think—"

            "Speak no further," Torrie said, interrupting her stream of words.  "I always have extra clothes to lend.  I'll give you something for today—"

            "I'll hit the mall or someplace as soon as it opens, so I just need one for a little while," Kathryn interjected, grateful toward the blonde.

            Torrie flashed a smile.  "You can just drop it off whenever," the blonde said as she went over to her suitcase, pulling seemingly random articles of clothing into her arms.

            "Thank you so much!" Kathryn exclaimed minutes later as Torrie deposited a pile of clothes into her arms.  "I'll drop these off later tonight!"

            "It's no problem, and if you need anything, I'm here," Torrie told her as she left.

            ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---

            Kathryn sighed, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror.  The black, low riding pants were something that she was not accustomed to wearing, but they fit well after fixing with the belt.  She was extremely grateful that she and Torrie were within a few bra sizes of each other—the top and bra fit well.  Kathryn smiled as she realized that Torrie had even thought to send a brush.  _'There's definitely going to be one big thank you card sent to her once this is over,' _the redhead thought as she slowly worked the tangles out in her hair.

            Her thoughts traveled back to John, who had just been waking up when she stepped into the bathroom.  He was no doubt curious what she needed to tell her father, and how she was going to end up doing it.  Kathryn chewed on the inside of her lip, suddenly feeling uneasy.  _'If Heyman or the Dudleys find out that I'm looking for Bearer, it could get nasty,' _she realized.  _'I can deal with it…  I have to tell Dad, I'll risk anything,' _she shot a look at the bathroom door.  _'I'm not going to drag him into this.  He's done enough, and I don't want him involved.  He could get hurt…' _she squared her shoulders and headed for the door.

            It was decided.  The last thing John Cena would see of her was her back while she left the hotel room.  He could have no part in her search, for his own good.

            And maybe even hers.

            ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---        ---

**Author's Note: **Okay, so I lied.  Wrote another chapter before vacation!  Anyway, please review!


	8. Chapter 7

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 7**

            "Mornin'," John mumbled sleepily from his spot on the bed.  He was slouched against the headboard, his eyes riveted on Kathryn, who was just emerging from the bathroom.  "How's your head doing?"

            "Pretty good, the meds helped…  How are you holding up?" the redhead responded.

            "The ribs don't hurt so bad" he answered, and yawned.  "So…  What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?"

            "It's nearly eight o'clock, John," Kathryn said, slightly amused.

            "Like I said, what are you doing at this ungodly hour?"

            Kathryn rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the shirt and boxers in her arms and began folding them.  "I'm on my way out, actually."

            John sat up straighter and stiffened.  "What?  What do you mean?" he asked quickly.

            Kathryn could only meet his eyes for a second.  "Well...  I got some clothes from Torrie earlier; to borrow for the day.  I'm going to find a bank somewhere around here, and then go out to a mall and get some clothes to wear until the airport gets my suitcase back."

            "And then…?" John prompted.

            "And then I'm going to find my dad," Kathryn replied, setting the clothes on top of John's duffel bag.  She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at him, forcing her eyes to remain on his face.

            "You're lying," John accused.

            "It's none of your business," Kathryn retorted, looking away from him.

            "It became my business last night!" John exclaimed in response, and then looked down, rubbing his neck in the silence that followed his outburst.  "Look, Kathryn," he said in a softer, calmer voice, "I said I was going to take care of you last night, and I'm going to live up to my word.  So you can either let me come with you, wherever you're going, or I'm going to follow you around all day, like it or not."

            "I could call the cops on you," Kathryn commented.

            "You wouldn't want me to be in jail for the Pay-Per-View, now would you?" John asked, knowing her answer was no.  "Whatever you're planning to do…  Wouldn't it be best to do with two heads instead of one?" he questioned her.

            "John…"

            "Seriously.  Wouldn't it be better with someone else to help you?"

            _'Yes, it would,' _Kathryn thought to herself, and ran a hand through her hair.  _'It would be easier to figure out where Bearer is if I had some help, and it's not as if the cops or anyone else is offering or would help if I asked.' _ The redhead curled her legs beneath her, Indian-style, and thought for a moment.  _'Two people would really be an advantage, in more ways than one…' _ "John…  You're right, it would be better to have someone else with me," she told him.  She didn't speak for a second.  John swung his legs out from under the covers.  The movement drew her eyes to his well-toned body, but she quickly regained herself.  "Look, I _need _to find Paul Bearer before the PPV, and if you want to help, I would really appreciate it.  But Heyman and the Dudleys…  Let's just say that they probably wouldn't be too kind if we took him out from underneath his nose."

            "Kathryn?"

            "What?"

            "I'm a wrestler."

            "I know it's just…" she trailed off.  "I can't help but be worried about what they would do if we find Bearer," she told him.

            "Let's concentrate on getting Bearer," John said, and Kathryn looked back at him.  "You don't have to do this, you know," she told him as he stood, grabbing his duffel bag and heading for the bathroom.

            "I know," he replied, "but I want to."

            The redhead lay down on the bed as he entered the bathroom.  _'What have I gotten myself into?' _she wondered silently, _'What have I gotten **John **into?' _ Shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts, she sat up, scooting further up to the bed until she was right in front of the phone.  After a moment's debate, she picked up the phone and dialed a number that she now knew by heart.

            "Houston Regional Health Care, this is Sharon Kings speaking, how may I help you?" the polite voice on the end of the line answered.

            "Hi, Sharon, it's me, Kathryn Calloway," Kathryn said slowly into the phone.  Her fingers wrapped around the cord of the phone in a death grip.

            "Oh, hi Katy," Sharon said, using her name for Kathryn.  "How are you doing?  Any help in finding your dad?"

            "I'm okay considering the circumstances…and no, no luck so far."

            "My son saw you last night, he went to the show," Sharon told her; "I suppose I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see it, but he says you got beat up pretty bad.  Are you sure you're okay?"

            "Yeah, I'm fine.  A friend is taking care of me," Kathryn replied.

            "I suppose you called to see how she's doing," Sharon said, and paused hesitantly for a moment.

            "Yes, I did," Kathryn affirmed, her knuckles turning white.  Had something happened?

            "I'm afraid to tell you, she's not doing too well right now," Sharon told her, her tone apologetic.  "The cancer was caught too late to help her, and we're doing the best we can to try and keep her alive, but…  Her heart has stopped a few times in the past week, Kathryn," she sighed heavily.  "I think her time is coming to an end…"

            Kathryn closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her face.  "How long do you think she has?"

            "It's hard to say, but Kathryn…  If you're going to find your dad, you'd better do it soon."

            The redhead pressed a fist to her mouth to prevent a sob from escaping her voice.  "Sharon?" she whispered.

            "Yes?"

            "How long?" she repeated, pursing her lips together.  _'I am not going to cry,' _she thought to herself, _'I knew this was going to happen sooner or later.'_

            She could hear Sharon's long sigh over the phone.  "I'd give her a week at most."  Hands shaking, Kathryn hung up, ignoring Sharon's voice on the other end, asking if she was still there.  She put her trembling hands to her face as the silence settled over the hotel room.

            Just as John was coming out of the bathroom, she burst into tears.

            ----       ----       ----       ----       ----       ----       ----       ----       ----       ----

**Author's Note: **I hope you liked the chapter, and please review!


	9. Chapter 8

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 8**

"Kathryn…what's wrong?" hearing John's cautious voice, Kathryn turned away from him, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears from coming. The redhead closed her eyes tightly and set her jaw, trying to get a hold of herself. "Kath…" he trailed off, approaching her tentatively. _'Kath,' _she repeated in her head, and a sob burst from her lips. _'She called me that.'_ Kathryn covered her face with one hand, feeling ashamed of herself for breaking down, but at the same time unable to stop. The bed dipped under a sudden weight as John sat down, touching her shoulder gently. "What happened? What's the matter…_Kathryn?_"

"John…" she whispered, and dropped her hand from her face as she let out another sob. "I've got to find my father," her voice cracked, and she succumbed to yet another round of tears. Cena moved closer to her, rubbing her back in reassurance.

"I know," he replied, his forehead creasing as he tried to figure out what had happened. His mind told him it was simply her father, and the way he had treated her, settling in, but at the same time, he knew it was something else…something much, _much _worse. "We'll get your father to come to his senses, Kathryn," he told her.

"I have to tell him something," she said, as if she was talking to herself.

"You will be able to…"

"Not in time," she replied, her voice shaking.

"In time for what?" John answered, frowning. She looked so fragile, her head bowed, her frame hunched over and tears running down her face. He reached over and squeezed her hand. She looked up, and answered his question.

"Death." Her eyes closed, and she looked down at her feet once more, biting down on her lip. "In time for death."

"Death? Kathryn, what do you mean? Whose death?" Kathryn was unable to speak, sobbing once more. She gestured to her throat.

"Dad," she whispered.

"'Taker's death?" John asked, and she shook her head no. _'Something about the Undertaker…and his throat…' _he thought to himself. His eyes widened suddenly.

**_FLASHBACK_**

_John stood in the middle of the ring, bouncing against the rope as he waited for his opponent. His nerves were high-strung, but he tried to ignore them, leaping from foot to foot as the Undertaker's music struck. John froze, staring at the man who came out of the curtains. The black light flooded through the arena, lighting his nervous sweat. Cena barely moved as the Undertaker made his way to the ring and entered it, taking off his trench coat slowly. The U.S Champion looked him over, trying to calm himself. 'Taker had rolled up his eyes, but John refused to let that creep him out. Instead, his gaze traveled downward, settling on the other man's neck, where five letters were tattooed: SARAH. The Undertaker moved, and John looked back up to the man's face, and swallowed tightly. The look on 'Taker's face was deathly; as if he had witnessed something that he shouldn't have._

**_FLASHBACK_**

****

"Sarah," he said aloud, and looked at Kathryn. The redhead nodded silently, more tears spilling down her face at the mention of her mother. Any personal joy John had had at figuring out who the person was diminished quickly as everything clicked into place. _'Oh my God… Sarah, 'Taker's wife…her **mother**. That's why she needs to talk to 'Taker…' _his thoughts trailed off as Kathryn spoke.

"She was diagnosed with stage 4 lymphoma," she whispered, "a few weeks ago. She can't move anymore, and she's on the machines. Talking is stressful, and it tires her out quickly," her grip on his hand tightened. "The machines are keeping her alive." Hearing the entire truth, John was consumed with a new kind of hatred for Paul Heyman, turning the Undertaker against his daughter and his wife when they needed him most.

John leaned over, hugging Kathryn. "I'm so sorry, Kathryn…" he whispered into her ear, and she didn't reply. The redhead's body was stiff against his, but suddenly she slackened, leaning into him.

_'Wednesday today,' _she thought, her eyes closed tightly. _'I have seven days, if Sharon is right…but…I have three full days to get Paul Bearer, convince Dad that that ungodly man **isn't **his soul, and bring him to the hospital…' _feeling suddenly overwhelmed, she sighed shakily, biting down on her lip. After a moment she looked up at John, her thoughts paused for the moment as she looked into his eyes. _'Why is he doing this?' _she couldn't help but wonder, _'He doesn't owe me anything, he saved me as much as I saved him… Why does he insist on helping me?' _it wasn't that she wasn't grateful for him being there; it was the fact that he seemed to want nothing in return. _'Everybody wants something when they help…' _she thought to herself, _'but John doesn't seem to…' _it was his opposition to what she had deemed to be the summarization of nearly everyone that confused her deeply. He had nothing to gain, but he helped anyway. Kathryn bowed her head. She felt so guilty, pondering his motives when he was the only one kind enough to offer her help.

"Kathryn…you okay?" John asked softly, pulling away from her, his arm still around her shoulders.

"Under the circumstances…" she trailed off and looked at him, her eyes, against her own will, displaying her pain. John reached out, touching her wet cheek with one hand, his eyes concerned and apologetic. Kathryn felt her heart skip a beat, and cursed inwardly. _'No! I'm **not **falling for him!' _she was firm in her mind, but all thoughts ceased when his other hand cupped her cheek and he leaned forward, bringing her face toward his. Her eyes fluttered shut.

A timid knock and a female voice coming through the door interrupted them. "Kathryn, you in there?"


	10. Chapter 9

**Thicker Than Blood**

**Chapter 9**

Kathryn jerked back away from John as she heard the voice. She stood quickly, wiping her face as she walked toward the door. Still sitting on the bed, John ran a hand over his head, sighing at the bad timing. _'So close,' _he thought to himself.

"Torrie!" Kathryn exclaimed as she opened the door, seeing the blonde on the other side. Sable was next to her, wearing a provocative, sluttish outfit, and throwing Kathryn a dirty glare. Torrie didn't seem to notice, and instead spoke to Kathryn, her tone hurried. "I just got a call from Vince, and I'm on a short-notice photo shoot for tonight, so can you just keep the clothes and give them back at the Bash?" she asked.

Kathryn gave her a smile. "Sure," she answered, and Torrie gave her a quick hug.

"You're the best!" Torrie squealed, and ran off arm and arm with Sable. Kathryn shut the door quietly, turning around to find John Cena standing behind her, studying her. She offered him a weak, forced smile, and felt the weight of his hand on her shoulders. The redhead refused to think about what his touch did to her.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Kathryn shook her head, looking at him with sad, tired eyes. "My mother is going to die, John." John looked at her, the pity that he couldn't hold back clear in his eyes. He thought of his mother, and tried to imagine himself in Kathryn's situation. _'I'd never be able to take it as well as Kathryn has,' _he thought to himself. "I need to get Dad to come to his sense and come to the hospital before…before…" she sighed heavily, and looked downward for a moment, and then back up at John. "before she dies," she said with a clenched jaw, every part inside of her stretching, willing to snap once more. She took a few steady breaths, and a wave seemed to pass over her, leaving her numb inside. She would get through this as she had gotten through everything: on her own. The redhead eyed John as he turned away from her, shuffling to the bathroom, rubbing the back of his neck as he did so. _'Can I really trust him?' _she asked herself. Looking into his eyes a few moments ago, she would have given away everything at his word, but now… A long breath hissed from her lips. Trust had never come easily to her, and nor had friendship.

Kathryn sat down on the bed, her chin on her knees. _'I almost kissed him,' _she realized suddenly, freezing. The numb shell she had suffocated her heart into shattered against a rush of new, unfamiliar emotions. _'I… Would I have…let him kiss me?' _she wondered to herself, feeling unsure and distinctly uncomfortable. She didn't like to be in places where she wasn't in control, and this was yet another one of them. Nibbling on her lip, she shifted on the bed onto her back, focusing her mind on this developing situation. _'He's not like everyone else… He's…different. I like him,' _she said honestly to herself, _'but… **Like **him? As in crush, as in love… I don't know…' _she was at a loss for thoughts.

As John stepped out of the bathroom, Kathryn stood up immediately. John eyed her inquisitively, but said nothing. "I-I…" Kathryn took a breath, suddenly feeling her face flush. "We should and look for leads," she finally pushed out, and John took a moment to nod. "Listen, you really don't have to go, John, I mean…"

"Kath, I'm coming with you," he said firmly, looking her in the eye.

She sighed, getting the feeling that it would be useless to argue. "All right," she said, and pushed her hands into the pockets of the borrowed jeans. "Let's go then." Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, she walked toward the door, opened it, and headed to the elevator, John right behind her. Kathryn forced herself to focus on the task at hand, but her thoughts kept straying back to one thought:

If Torrie hadn't come to the hotel room when she had, what would've happened?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, kind of lame, short chapter, but I'm just getting myself back on track with this story! I hope you guys like this, and please, please review!


End file.
